


you're here now

by brightest_stars



Series: Valentine’s Event - brightest_stars submissions [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Humor, Bellatrix's knife, Caring Hermione Granger, Discord: Bellamione Coven, Discord: Bellamione Coven Valentine’s Event, F/F, Good Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, death eater breakout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29330094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightest_stars/pseuds/brightest_stars
Summary: Hermione comes home late. Bellatrix is nowhere to be found.Prompt 11. "Where is the dagger?" "I'm sure you'd love to know" "That is why I asked"
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Series: Valentine’s Event - brightest_stars submissions [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156091
Kudos: 117





	you're here now

**Author's Note:**

> Discord: Bellamione Coven Valentine’s Event  
> Prompt 11. "Where is the dagger?" "I'm sure you'd love to know" "That is why I asked"
> 
> un-beta'ed so all mistakes are mine. Enjoy!!

The house was cold when Hermione got home. She’d stayed very late at work, caught up in an argument between the smaller wizarding banks and the goblins. It had taken hours, but she’d finally reached a point where all parties were happy to go home for the weekend, and return to talks on Monday.

Hermione knew her girlfriend would be asleep, so she tiptoed into the kitchen and peeked in the fridge. Rolling her eyes at Bellatrix’s predictability, she grabbed the container of leftover Chinese takeaways, and slumped onto one of the stools lining the kitchen island.

It didn’t take her long to finish the fried rice, and she dumped the container and the utensils in the sink. Tiptoeing up the stairs in the dark, Hermione could feel tiredness from the long week of negotiations over banking in Wizarding Britain sinking into every muscle. This was the first time she’d even considered relaxing all week.

When Hermione reaches the top floor of their townhouse, she can see that their bedroom door is half open, but the light is not on.

Immediately, Hermione slips her wand into her hand. Bella  _ never _ sleeps with the door open.

Hermione creeps along the hallway, scenarios playing in her mind, each worse than the other. Fighting to keep her breathing steady, she repeats a mantra,  _ don’t panic, don’t panic _ .

Deep breath in. Hermione spins into the doorway without opening the door any wider, wand out, eyes whipping around the dark room. Shaky breath out. The curtains haven’t been drawn, Bella’s not in bed.

_ Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. _

_ She’s fine. There’s a perfectly logical explanation. She’s fine. You’re fine. _

Hermione stalks into the room slowly, wand out. Throwing open the door to the ensuite reveals nothing. Hermione heart rate picks up a little more. She can feel sweat on the back of her neck, her grip on her wand is getting clammy.

She slowly approaches the wardrobe. Bellatrix had insisted on a walk-in wardrobe/dressing room, and Hermione had given in because Bellatrix was so cute about it, and they’d magically extended the smaller inbuilt wardrobe.

The door creaks a little as Hermione slides it open.

In the dark, at the back of the room, huddled on the floor - there she is.

“Jesus Christ, Bella! You scared me half to death!” Hermione exclaims, reaching Bellatrix’s side in a few long strides and dropping to her knees next to her.

Bellatrix is pale, her wand gripped in one hand, the other bunched in her black skirts. Her eyes are big, darting around.

“Bella, love? Hey, it’s just me,” Hermione says softly. She sits back on her heels and waits until Bellatrix’s eyes settle on her.

The black-haired witch is breathing fast and deep. “Hermione?” She asks. She sounds vulnerable, and Hermione inches closer, aching to pull the older witch into her arms, but she knows from experience that the best way to deal with Bellatrix’s flashbacks is slowly and calmly, and definitely not to trap her.

One question at a time. “Yeah, just me. Can I hold your hand, Bella?” Hermione holds out her hand a little, making sure not to breach Bellatrix’s personal space.

“Uh huh,” Bellatrix says, slowly untwisting her hand from her skirts and placing it in Hermione’s. Hermione squeezes Bellatrix’s hand gently.

“Do you know how long you’ve been here, love?” Hermione asks, keeping her voice steady and slow.

Bellatrix shakes her head. Hermione stays silent, and a few moments later, Bellatrix speaks up. “I saw… in the Evening Prophet. A feature about….  _ Them _ .”

Ah. The Death Eaters. Hermione hadn’t had a chance to read the Evening Prophet, but she had an idea of what had sent Bellatrix spiralling.

“You’re safe here, Bella. You’re strong. I know it’s scary. They’re not coming after you. They’re all in prison now. You’re free. You did so well, and now you’re free. You can do whatever you like. You get to work in the Department of Mysteries, you get to research whatever you like. It’s okay. You’re safe.” Hermione whispers, tenderly sliding her arms around Bellatrix as the older witch slumps against Hermione’s body.

“You’re here now,” Bellatrix breathes into Hermione’s neck.

“I’m here now,” Hermione confirms.

They sit huddled together on the wardrobe floor for an indeterminable amount of time. Eventually, Hermione feels Bellatrix sit back.

“Bed?” Bellatrix says, half question, half offer.

Hermione frowns a little. Something is missing. They’ve done this before, many times. Bellatrix always has her knife. Always. She likes hand to hand fighting, she likes to know that if she is magically disarmed, she still has the ability to defend herself - something she’s had to do more times in her life than Hermione would like.

Bellatrix stands up and extends her hand to Hermione.

Hermione knows what is coming next. Bellatrix wants to shut off her thoughts, quiet her mind, so she’ll sate herself with Hermione’s body, to reassure herself that she’s still alive. That she’s okay.

“Bella… Where is your knife?” Hermione asks with trepidation, letting Bellatrix pull her to her feet, but she doesn’t move from where she’s standing. She keeps hold of Bellatrix’s hand so that the black-haired witch won’t walk away.

Bellatrix smirks. “I’m sure you’d  _ love _ to know.” She giggles, bouncing on the balls of her bare feet a little.

“Uh, yeah. I would. That  _ is _ why I asked, Bellatrix.” Hermione says firmly.

Bellatrix rolls her eyes and sighs as if Hermione is spoiling the biggest, bestest game.

“Bella,” Hermione says cajolingly, raising one eyebrow.

“Fiiine,” Bellatrix huffs. “I rigged it above the door.”

“Which door?!” Hermione squeaks.

“Bedroom door,” Bellatrix replies, voice full of boredom as she drags Hermione towards the bed.

“Bella! You could’ve killed me!” Hermione pulls her hand out of Bellatrix. The black-haired witch turns to face her.

“I wouldn’t have killed  _ you _ , silly.” She rolls her eyes again, and Hermione sucks in an angry breath. Bellatrix waves her hand, and her knife floats over to her bedside table and clatters down onto the wooden surface.

“ _ Bellatrix _ ,” Hermione says, warning in her tone. Bellatrix chuckled darkly and pushes Hermione up against the wall. Hermione lets her.

“ _ Hermione _ ,” Bellatrix mocks, ducking her head to suck a purple lovebite on to the delicate skin of Hermione’s neck. The younger witch moaned and bared her neck to Bellatrix. “If I’d killed you, I wouldn’t get to have you in my bed, huh?”

“You haven’t got me in any bed yet, let alone  _ our bed _ ,” Hermione gasps out, and as soon as the words tumble from her lips, Bellatrix lifts Hermione’s legs around her hips and carries her across the room, tossing her on the bed and crawling up her body.

“I have now, pet,” she husks in Hermione’s ear.

Hermione shuts her up with a fierce kiss.

  
  



End file.
